Restoring the Music
by mundaneboy
Summary: This story begins with the death of Cedric Diggory, and ends with the defeat of death and the triumph of one of the truest loves that has ever existed. Rated T for now, subject to change.
1. The Story

**Story**: Restoring the Music

**Pairing**: I will only concentrate on Harry Potter and Cedric Diggory, Maybe hinting  
>at others, but they're the main ones<p>

**Warnings**: Slash. Meaning boy on boy. If you don't like this, then why read it? Also, any flames will be used to make delicious cookies that I won't share with you.

**Summary**: This story begins with the death of Cedric Diggory, and ends with the defeat of death and the triumph of one of the truest loves that has ever existed.

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><p><em>From the Book of Ancients<em>

_In the days of yore, magic was not as organized as it is today. Many wizards cannot grasp at the concept of magic without incantations, verbal or otherwise. However, in its origins, magic only existed when channeled through the emotions of those who wielded it. In a secluded village whose name has been lost to the tides of time, magic ran through a few privileged villagefolk. As our race has learned many times, when power is handed to few, it is most always abused. The few who possessed the gift of magic ran the village with iron fists, and anyone who did not comply with their demands was punished with the most severe of magics. The most powerful of these early witches and wizards was a woman names Eleanor. She and her less powerful husband, Jasper, lived atop a hill overlooking the village and the expansive farmlands they controlled. Jasper was as unhappy as Eleanor was ruthless, spending half his days hiding from his "wife". Though forced to marry her, he had no say in anything that occurred in the village. Their mansion was run by an army of maids, usually older housewives from the village, and some young women thrown in for diversity. _

_One of these women was named Gwyneviere, a seemingly magicless young lady who was said to be the most beautiful in the village, inside and out. It didn't take long for Jasper to be taken with her, and their affair stayed deep within the shadows. However, nothing could be hidden from Eleanor for long. Eleanor concocted a tale of how she was going out into the fields to summon rain, and seemingly left for the day. Jasper and Gwyneviere snuck into one of the guest bedrooms, locked in an embrace. What they did not see was Eleanor outside the window. Her shriek shattered the glass and her smirk became more maniacal as she approached the horror stricken lovers. With a flash of light, her anger had manifested itself into a burst of magic that flowed through the air, settling upon Jasper's form. The magic converted his from a living being into one of stone. Gwyneviere fell to knees, sobs racking her body. She begged, but Eleanor had a much worse fate in store for her. With another flash, this one originating from pure hatred, Gwyneviere was tossed from the window, landing in the courtyard. However, her outer beauty had been snatched, taken by Eleanor and replaced with the form of a horrifying monster. Eleanor called the village guards to her, demanding they kill the beast for killing her husband, and with a snap of her fingers, the stone man followed the path Gwyneviere had taken, except now to be smashed on the cold, unforgiving stones of the road. The monster caught the statue and ran, deep into the forest where no humans dared venture. _

_The forest beasts kept away from her, mistaking her screams of a heartbroken girl with cries of an angry beast. For days the monster lamented over her lost love, crying nonstop. She gouged a hole within a great elder tree and hid herself. The pure emotions within her swirled, mixing with the magic locked deep within her, as she was a witch, unknown to all, even herself. The magic, unlocked by her pain, mixed with the tears. The tree drank the tears, and from the gouged hole a river flowed. The inside of the tree was transmuted to a shimmering crystal that bled the magic water, which engulfed the hopeless lovers. The pure emotion within Gwyneviere, mixed with the natural magic of nature, had allowed for the birth of a great magic river. The waters disappeared into a hole in the earth not far away, and were then fed back into the tree. This created a loop of enchanted water. As the water washed over Gwyneviere and the stone man, it washed away all traces of magic. The monster vanished, as did the stone man, and the two lovers embraced, tears of all sorts running down their faces. However, the magic waters had also caused the magic inside of Gwyneviere to be snuffed out, leaving her and Jasper as magicless as any normal humans. _

_Returning to the village hand in hand and sopping wet, they accused Eleanor of her crime. Eleanor's spells did nothing to them, the water shielding their bodies from the wicked magic that tried to reach them. With Eleanor as good as powerless, Jasper ran forward and stabbed her with a crystal dagger. Eleanor, before dying, ran her own blade into Jasper. With Eleanor dead and Jasper dying, Gwyneviere tried to summon the magic that could rescue her love. With her pure love and her willpower, her magic returned to her, called by her purity of mind and soul. From then on Gwyneviere and Jasper ran the village with kindness, and the village grew into a great and prosperous kingdom, Camelot. When Merlin came along centuries later, he assigned powerful wizards to guard the river, whose magic quenching waters could ruin society should it fall into the wrong hands._

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><p>Hermione closed the copy of the Book of Ancients she was using to write her Transfiguration essay. The subject was simple: "Find one example of a legendary transfiguration before the 14th century and explain its significance." She cared not for the actual legend of the Rio Reverso, but the founding of Camelot provided a meaningful magical event to base her essay off of. Fifth year Transfiguration was really taking a toll on Hermione, as the mentions of Transfiguration before the 15th century was extremely difficult to find. She knew Harry was doing his on Morgan le Fay, and Ron was making his up when not moping about Quidditch. Harry was deep asleep on the floor, his recurring nightmare about Cedric most likely being the cause of his tossing and turning.<p>

With a sweet dreams spell sent towards him, she turned to her essay, sighed, and rolled it up. Ever since the death of his long time boyfriend, Harry hadn't been able to get a single night of peaceful sleep without constant charms cast on him. And ever since Ron's betrayal caused him to be a less than trustworthy person, Hermione had to sneak into the boy's dormitory every three hours to cast the spell. Not that she minded, but she didn't want to get caught in the boy's dorm at three in the morning and be called a pervert. The clock struck midnight, and she sent her books up to her room with a flick of her wrist, and turned to Harry.

"Oh Harry," she sighed, a tear running down her cheek to match his own. A mentally chanted _Wingardium Leviosa _lifted Harry into the air, and she ascended the steps to the 5th year boy's room, silencing the door so as not to wake the boys. Setting Harry into his bed, she tucked him in and with a last sad look on the poor boy, she left him to the one place where Harry and his love could be together.

**Author's Note**: This was intended to be the prologue, but I decided to add the Hermione bit as to not make this chapter pointless. Please review, and I will try to update as much as possible. Thank you for reading :)


	2. Diana's Watch

"You've got to wake up," Cedric whispered to the broken boy lying in his arms, weeping at the magic caused illusion.

"I don't want to leave," Harry choked out through sobs. He gripped his lover tighter, drawing their bodies closer together so that as to draw Cedric with him from the dream. However, the dream ceased as the last remnants of the spell faded, and Harry awoke to find his sheets permeated with the sweat from his persistent night terrors. His face had fresh tears running down them, following the path of what seemed like millions of tears in the months since Cedric's passing.

"Harry?" a voice penetrated his mourning, and Hermione peered into the room of four sleeping teens and Harry, already awake. Her eyes were filled to the brim with a sympathy that seemed ready to burst from her at any moment.

"I don't think I can keep doing this Hermione," Harry said, his voice laced with pain as he thought of his dream. "They're too realistic."

"I can brew you the Draught of Empty Dreams...it might help," offered Hermione. Harry knew that he had to accept, no matter how much his heart ached for the dreams that followed his terrors each and every night. With one last look at Harry, and a hate filled glare towards Ron's sleeping form, she turned, leaving Harry to marinate in his thoughts. He dressed quickly as to not wake his roommates, whom since the beginning of the school year hadn't been the most supportive. Together, he and Hermione made their way down to the Great Hall, being one of the first to arrive.

The seemingly endless enchanted sky was a very melancholy combination of dark storm clouds and what appeared to be leaves tossing around in a powerful wind. The few students who were already there were either frantically scrambling to complete an assignment for one of the more intimidating professors in order to free up their time, or else glaring at the person who woke them this early on a weekend. Harry and Hermione seated themselves closest to the staff table, in case any Slytherins or, more recently, Gryffindors, decided to antagonize them.

"Are they staring at me again," Harry muttered, a lost expression on his face as he gazed at the enchanted ceiling.

"The Hufflepuffs, as always, are being their usual gossipy selves. I think every one of them is destined to work for Rita Skeeter someday," Hermione replied, and was rewarded with a rare smile on her best friend's face. Since Cedric's death, most of Hogwarts had turned against Harry. Most Hufflepuffs had, over the summer, turned into rather snarky creatures that blamed Harry for Cedric's death. The Daily Prophet's ongoing attempt at the defamation of The Boy Who Lived wasn't helping either.

"So, what classes do we have today," Harry asked, trying not to let his sadness infect Hermione. It took all of his willpower and self-control to hide his sorrow, but if it meant his best friend's happiness, then he would always try.

"Today's Saturday Harry," Hermione reminded him. "Which mean-"

"Hogsmeade," Harry's mask shattered at the thought of having to walk into the magic village and endure the scorn of classmates and villagers alike. Hermione, seeing this, put her arm around him in an attempt to dispel his sour mood. It was at this time that Ronald Weasley and his posse of Gryffindors decided to stroll into the Great Hall, their body language hoping to convey that they thought higher of themselves than other while in reality making them look like someone had passed gas and they were trying not to inhale it. The posse was made up of Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnigan, and a slightly remorseful looking Neville Longbottom.

"Hello Granger, Potter," Ron smirked, letting Harry's last name out like it was some sort of contagious disease, or a swear word that Ron thought too good for his mouth. "I see the fag and his hag are still as pathetic as ever," Ron added.

"Ron, just go away," Harry mumbled, not wanting to lock eyes with his former best friend.

"What was that," Ron feigned an auditory malfunction, hoping to make Harry shed some more tears today. "I couldn't hear you over the sound of your manhood shriveling up."

"Enough." Hermione stood up; glaring at Ron with such hatred filled eyes that the the intensity of her gaze easily rivaled that of a basilisk, and therefore caused Ron to take a step back.

"And what're you-" before Seamus could finish the sentence, Hermione had drawn her wand and had it pointed at Ron's chest.

"_Depuslo_," she screamed, and the force of the banishing charm hit the four with an amazing amount of power. The spell lifted them off their feet, sending them flying backwards and crashing into the relatively empty Hufflepuff table, right into the group of gossiping teenagers. Harry looked at Hermione with wide eyes, knowing she could get in major trouble for charming a student, but touched by her show of friendship.

"Why you little-" Ron stood, drawing his own wand, but before another syllable left his mouth, a "_Silencio_" was heard.

"That is enough," Minerva McGonagall stood, tall and menacing, in the great oak doorway of the Great Hall.

"Mr. Weasley; 50 points from Gryffindor. Ms. Granger, Mr. Potter, in my office," she turned and walked into the depths of the castle, headed towards her office where who knows what sort of punishment awaited the Gryffindors. Harry and Hermione dejectedly got up, and Ron opened his mouth to throw another insult before having it hexed shut nonverbally. Harry and Hermione didn't dare say a word while following the tall, majestic teacher leading them to certain doom, or at the very least a detention. "Well," she said, her tone filled with intrigue. "Explain yourselves."

"Professor McGonagall, there is really nothing to explain. Ron's been teasing Harry and I since we arrived. He sent Harry a Howler over the summer stating that their friendship was over, saying he could never be friends with a…with a…" at that Hermione looked down, unable to let that horrid word past her lips.

"Ms. Granger, I do understand that Mr. Weasley's actions truly reflect the horrible character he has become over the summer, and how he has transformed in a 'pompous git' as you young folk put it," Harry smiled as he heard his teacher say this, as she never showed anything but mutual respect for her students, "but if he is being as ruthless as you claim he is, then you must report it to me at once."

"But Professor McGonagall," Harry started; only to be silenced by her upraised hand. Minerva McGonagall did not need magic to instill silence in her students.

"As for you Mr. Potter, I feel that allowing you to sleep within the Boy's Dormitory might provoke some violence in the other students, so I have decided to relocate you to the Gryffindor spare bedroom. I have magically enchanted it so that only you and your roommate will be able to enter, so it should stop the abuse within the tower."

"My roommate?" Harry's heart began pounding faster, hoping he didn't get stuck with another boy who found him utterly repulsive.

"Yes Mr. Potter, your roommate. It has come to my attention that the girls are being particularly ruthless to you, Ms. Granger. Therefore, I have decided to allow you two to share the room. It is located behind the portrait of Godric Gryffindor, and will unlock at the touch of your wands."

"Thank you Professor," both students had smiles plastered on their faces, Harry due to him not having to be afraid to close his eyes in fear of having one of the boys do something horrible to him in his slumber, and Hermione because this meant that it would allow her to keep a closer eye on Harry's nightmares.

"You are dismissed," McGonagall waved them away, but before Harry was out the door started, "Oh, and Mr. Potter. You and Ms. Granger are excused from attending Hogsmeade today. I trust you will take this time to relocate your things."

"Thank you Professor. We will." Harry said, before being tugged away by Hermione.

The two friends walked in silence, allowing the feeling of their small victory to instill them with a feeling of pride. After all, they were Gryffindors, and they were allowed to have partially inflated egos at times.

"I'll tell Draco to sneak us some breakfast," Hermione responded when she head Harry's stomach begin to growl, like a beast was trapping within him trying to escape.

"It's still weird that you and Draco, of all people, could have found something worth liking in each other," Harry smiled, as he loved teasing her about her sudden whirlwind romance with the Icy Prince of Slytherin.

It was these times that he cherished, being happy with best friend. It was almost enough to dull the throbbing pain in his chest, where his other half used to lie. This sudden thought had Harry freeze as he recalled all of his and Cedric's antics. Their skinny dipping at the lake and realizing the horrible mistake they made after all of two seconds, their times studying together in the library. But most of all Harry recalled the time when he and his lover had spent an entire day over Christmas break, lying nude in the Hufflepuff's bed, letting themselves love and be loved.

All of this remembering had Harry's eyes start up again, and he broke down in the hallway. Sobs racked his heartbroken body, piercing deep within his soul. Hermione knelt down, embracing him until it passed. Harry's heart had never hurt this much before, and he clutched it as tears flowed from him, collecting into a puddle and staining the stones that interlocked to make the floor. Hermione pulled him up and, using a secret passageway tucked away in the corner of the school, got to Gryffindor tower before anyone came along. She laid him down on his new bed, and was surprised to see all of their things there and some food on the table. The house elves really outdid themselves this time, conveying an overheard information from McGonagall's office and doing it before she and Harry arrived. As she laid The Boy Who Lived down, neither of them noticed the pure white dove that peered in from the window, before taking off into the storm.


End file.
